Gone Away
by jen0va99
Summary: At an innocent age, Sephiroth learns what it means to lose someone you believe in. [Gen (Father-son bonding over needles); One-shot ]


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Disclaimer: Square, not mine. Wish it was but alas…  
**Rating:** PG. No warnings, 'cept for Little Sephy angst… cuz I'm a sucker for making Sephiroth and everyone around him suffer. -.-;; And talk of needles and injections, for the squeamish. And a slightly more human Hojo than most people portray. …I like Hojo and his crazy self, leave me alone O  
**Pairing:** None.  
**Notes:** Just a ficlet to kill the plot bunny that was humping my leg. It was supposed to be a 15-minute ficlet, but it didn't quite come out that way… ah well. And I apologize in advance if it sucks. . Not used to writing things that aren't yaoi…

…know Sephiroth isn't a Cetra, but Hojo thinks he is at the moment… don't want the canon police all up my ass… -.-

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A boy of six stepped into the lab's reception area, quietly, scanning the room for a familiar face. He came to the place every day after his studies, just as scheduled, and was usually greeted promptly by the one he was looking for; but at that moment, for whatever reason, the waiting room was surprisingly barren.

On most days there were upper-class SOLDIERs lining the benches, trying to keep their wits together even as they quaked in anticipation of the hurtful injections that he, by that time, was all too familiar with. He sympathized with them… but, it was sort of funny how much better he dealt with the wait before those Mako treatments than men over three times his age.

Sephiroth stood on tiptoe and latched onto the edge of the large white desk, curious to see if there were any attendants in the place at _all_. His small but strong arms flexed, pulling the him upwards a way in order to see over the counter. On it he saw a register with names of SOLDIERs hastily scribbled in, loose pieces of paper, a thick stack of records which needed to be filed, set off to the side and forgotten - but he could see no one beyond the desk, not even that receptionist who was always so nice to him.

Frowning, he let himself fall back to the floor.

"Where is everyone?" he muttered dourly, crossing his arms. He knew for a fact that he was on time - he was to report to the lab on a daily basis, directly after his studies of the day were finished.

After another minute of that eerie silence, Sephiroth sighed in irritation and pushed a chunk of silver hair from his eyes. Feet stomping petulantly, he moved to sit on a sterile-looking bench against the wall, lowering his head as he opted to wait instead of snooping.

He hated sitting there the most. All too often Sephiroth would look up to catch ShinRa employees gawking at him through the reception area's glass wall, all civility lost as they pointed, amazed. And when he walked through the halls, holding the hand of some nondescript lab technician, he often caught awed murmurs and whispers so loud they rang in his ears.

Sephiroth didn't understand what they were talking about; he couldn't see what was so special about himself, yet he heard the words often. Hojo told him that as well… but Sephiroth didn't believe him. He felt more like an outcast than anything.

Glowing Mako orbs moved up to the clock which read 1400 hours exactly… Professor Gast should have fetched him a while ago. Usually before his sessions, the two of them would sit with him and talk about his newest studies, and light weapons training - all of which prepared him for SOLDIER, where he would become the youngest recruit ever, in all the years the program had been running. Supposedly ShinRa had 'big plans' for him in the near future when it came to their superior military, but Sephiroth was skeptical. Even in _ten_ years he would still be a child, so what good could he do in the military?

And as interesting as the conversations between he and Gast were, Sephiroth had grown increasingly concerned… the older man had been regrettably distracted ever since the day the man had introduced him to that Ifalna woman - an Ancient. Someone 'almost as special' as the boy himself, to quote Hojo; yet the scientist refused to elaborate when asked just why he considered Sephiroth to be more special than a real, live _Ancient_…

The door to the lab's main entrance clicked open and the boy's head shot up excitedly. Immediately dismayed when he saw who it was, Sephiroth lowered his eyes and murmured, "it's you…"

The man in the long, white labcoat looked up from his clipboard as if noticing him for the first time, distractedly raking a hand through his pitch-black hair. "Sephiroth," came the short greeting, the man taking his own glance at the clock. He smiled awkwardly - the best he knew how, as he was still quite unused to dealing with the child on a personal level - and nodded. "Good boy… punctual as always."

Finding no sign of Sephiroth's temporary caretaker, he questioned, "did you come here alone…?"

"Where is Professor Gast?" the child asked suddenly, ignoring the last question as he bit his lower lip. "I haven't seen him…"

"No, of course not. Gast… will not be taking care of you anymore." Shaking his head in thinly veiled disgust, the scientist ordered quietly, "now, come along."

Catching the hesitation in the man's voice, Sephiroth ventured, "why? Did something happen, Professor…?"

"Come into the room, Sephiroth," Hojo repeated, "I'll explain to you in private, once we commence your exam."

Warily, Sephiroth followed, eyes burning holes into the man's back. He was upset, and rightfully so. Professor Gast had _promised_ he was going to be the one to administer the injections that day, not _Hojo_…

Sephiroth didn't like Hojo, and he was sure the feeling was mutual. The scientist had no compassion for other people, mind invested only in his work and research… Hojo was nothing like Professor Gast. Gast was a kind, smart man, the complete opposite of his partner.

Though they both knew how to do their job when it came to handling the needles as well as beginning Mako infusions, that was where the similarities ended. While Hojo left him hooked up to the machine, charting and taking notes of Sephiroth's progress, Gast, on the other hand, would be right by his side. Oftentimes he told Sephiroth that he was being a good boy, praising him for his courage even as the Mako burned like liquid fire through his veins. When it was Gast administering the Mako, Sephiroth wasn't made to deal with the pain on his lonesome.

But Hojo, as Sephiroth fought to keep himself from screaming in agony, just didn't seem to care. And that man was the one who was rumored to be his father…

Of course, Sephiroth wasn't about to inquire about the truth of the rumor; it would have made him hate Hojo even more. After all, what sort of twisted man would do such experiments on his own son? And even though Hojo deemed him 'special', Sephiroth didn't feel that way - at least not in the positive sense of the word. In Hojo's eyes, Sephiroth saw himself as less than human, nothing but a project…

As they bypassed the Mako lab to step off into a small examination room, he wholeheartedly wished his father had been Professor Gast; Sephiroth was sure life would've been much better if he was.

"It's been four weeks since your last physical… due for another…," Hojo mumbled as they entered the room, attention still fixed on the silver clipboard in his hands. "I assume you know what to do?"

Sephiroth lowered his head and began to obediently strip the clothes from his young body, then placed the light-colored material into a neat pile on a nearby chair. Almost mechanically he stepped up onto the scale and without waiting, reached up to take his own measurements. It wasn't hard; he learned how to do it long ago, as he'd witnessed others doing it countless times before.

"Forty-nine and one-half inches, fifty-one pounds," he read aloud. Hojo turned to verify, thumb and forefinger once again adjusting the spectacles on the bridge of his nose.

"…you're advancing normally," the scientist remarked, jotting the information down. "Just a bit bigger than most, though nothing too spectacular…"

Sephiroth stepped off of the scale, frowning at the comment. When he was able to do his own readings with Professor Gast, he was praised for having the ability to accurately do so…

With strength unnatural for a child his age, the silver-haired boy went on to climb onto the examination table. He sat quietly with his head lowered, eyes still trained on Hojo's back as the scientist shuffled distractedly about the room, readying implements.

Absently he let his sights set on the crook of his elbow, then on the back of his left hand, and stared at the pale track marks there. So many Mako injections he received in his short years… something that no one, but especially a child his age, should have been made to endure.

Hojo's use of the substance would forever be a mystery to him. What sort of person would even try to put such chemicals into their bodies in the first place? What was the _point_? Though when Sephiroth did ask the questions out loud, he never got a solid answer. Sephiroth wondered sometimes if Hojo himself even knew why he started with it, sadism aside…

He watched as Hojo bent down to reach inside a small refrigerator and pull out several small vials of watery, light-colored liquid, before gently setting them down on a metal side table.

"Precautionary immunizations," the scientist stated upon catching Sephiroth's eyes fix upon the labels. He again moved away, opening a drawer filled with nothing but syringes, the young boy continuing to check the marked vials. All of them were named simply and seemingly without purpose, 'J-1', J-2', 'J-4c' 'J-S2'…

"…Professor Gast said I wouldn't need any more until I was seven," Sephiroth spoke up hesitantly, chafing his bare arms with open palms. Goosebumps pricked at his bare flesh, and he shivered involuntarily; the individual rooms of the lab were always so cold. The controlled temperature was a necessity, Gast had explained once, due to the delicate substances they worked with, and Sephiroth understood that. However, it would have been nice if he was given at least a paper gown to wear during his physicals as the other men did.

As he jabbed the needle through the vial's rubber cap and pulled the plunger, Hojo snidely replied, "well he was mistaken, then, wasn't he?"

It was an unsatisfactory answer to him, of course. The boy knew that Gast was never wrong…

Sephiroth barely flinched as the vaccination was given, even though the liquid stung more than the shots usually did. But by then he was mostly desensitized to them, with the exception of the Mako… no one would ever become accustomed to that chemical. Build up a tolerance by exposure, maybe, but introducing it into a body would always hurt, no matter what - because it wasn't supposed to _be_ there.

Looking away as the third round of shots pierced his skin, he distractedly focused on a point in one corner. In it sat a black-capped test tube filled with displayed Mako, its glowing aqua color nearly the same as Sephiroth's eyes, and the boy couldn't help but shudder in disgust. The physical would put _that_ off for at least another twenty minutes, and for that he was thankful.

"…where is he, Hojo?" Sephiroth asked after all injections were issued, crossing his arms against himself. The curiosity was killing him. "He said he was going to be here today…"

"Gast is gone."

Hojo's voice still came out spiteful and callous, no matter how hard he tried to mask that bitterness. In his mind, Gast had his priorities completely wrong to allow himself to place damnable love for that _woman_ before the Project… after all, Hojo himself had to put his feelings for Lucrecia and the care he truly _did_ possess for his son's well-being aside for the good of science, therefore his partner should have had the decency to do the same. It was only fair. In their field, it was necessary to make personal sacrifices.

Besides, all Hojo wanted was to perform a few more studies on the Cetra to see if he could infer exactly what it was which differentiated their race from that of humans. What he had in mind for Ifalna was nothing compared to those tests and all other things he had to do to his very own _child_.

Though, with Ifalna out of ShinRa's custody, perhaps she and Gast would breed… the woman wasn't young, and Hojo imagined she wouldn't have fared too well during some of the more rigorous experiments anyway. And to study a developing, true-blooded Cetra from birth _would_ be much better… but that didn't make him any less angry with Gast for making off with such an important specimen.

"…'gone'…?" the boy questioned, wide-eyed and staring. "What do you mean?"

"He passed away last night, Sephiroth."

And Hojo most certainly wasn't going to allow Sephiroth false hope of his former partner's return by telling the boy the truth - that Gast was a coward to turn his back on what should have been his greatest _dream_: to produce a perfect being with all the powers of a Cetra and more.

Yes, Sephiroth was an Ancient, thanks to Jenova's cells… but regrettably, his power as such wasn't nearly comparable to that of Ifalna's, judging by the results of the tests he and Gast actually had managed to perform. That disappointing fact aside, in Hojo's opinion, Sephiroth _was_ superior to all other humans, regardless of it all.

Even at the age of six, Sephiroth showed excelled intelligence inherent from both parents, wise far beyond his years, and a budding strength… added to that, the boy's appearance was eerily reminiscent of Lucrecia's… a beauty. Had she not been a traitor as well, Hojo was sure she would have been proud to see the boy then; Sephiroth so far possessed everything required of what she named him.

Of course, once Sephiroth was enrolled in SOLDIER, he would become a biological weapon unlike any other as well… the embodiment of perfection. His son was destined to turn ShinRa into an absolutely unbeatable force, just as they all hoped, and would one day become a legend. Or perhaps Sephiroth would even be revered as a god, reigning supreme over all… only time would tell.

And Gast had simply forsook all of that glory…? To Hojo the idea was completely absurd, and yet it was the undeniable truth. It was… pitiful.

Steely as he spoke the words, making sure the boy understood exactly what he was saying, Hojo clarified, "Professor Gast is dead."

Sephiroth's eyes widened, slitted pupils dilating just slightly. He hadn't anticipated that answer in the least. Just the day earlier he had spoken with the man and he seemed perfectly fine, with the exception of that unease…

"…are you lying?" Sephiroth half-asked, half-accused, carefully watching the scientist as he made his way back over to the table, used sharps discarded.

Hojo shook his head and sighed, "why do you think I would lie to you?"

One clammy hand pressed against Sephiroth's back and the boy leaned forward obediently, jumping slightly in shock as the frigid metal of the stethoscope was placed against his ribcage. "I don't believe you," Sephiroth said quietly, heart thumping nervously. "He's not…"

Unfortunately, the boy's certainty was waning, and his voice was a testament to that. Until that day, Gast had never missed a session with him when he was supposed to be there, _ever_.

Exasperated, Hojo replied, "trust what you will; it doesn't matter either way." Giving an unconcerned shrug, he tacked on, "but he will not be coming back, Sephiroth, that will never change."

Sephiroth would have liked to do just that: ignore the black-haired scientist's words and continue to look forward to seeing Gast the next day… but really, Hojo had no good reason to lie about a thing like that. He and Gast were partners, and they cooperated well together… in a way, Sephiroth could have even considered them to be friends, at least on a professional level.

Resignation poisoning his tone, Sephiroth whispered to himself, "that can't be…"

His small voice caught in his throat, and Sephiroth fought the tears threatening to break. Shamed, he turned his head away, allowing chin-length strands of pure silver to fall into his eyes. And shocked as he was, he refused to cry… he would _not_ allow himself to do so. Not in front of Hojo.

But… he would never see Professor Gast again… which meant he was left alone with Hojo from then on…? No more casual talking about things other than what tests he'd undergo that session, no more being treated as an equal, or as a _human_…

Who was he supposed to look up to now? Certainly not Hojo, his supposed 'father'. And his mother died after she gave birth to him… though it was his fault she died, he knew, Hojo never said as much - the man had that much decency, at least. And that fact that she was gone didn't truly bother him much; although it would have been nice to have a mother, he never got to meet her, so…

Around others, Sephiroth didn't feel secure as he did with Gast, a man very much a father-figure in all ways one could have hoped for. He was protected and tranquil around the good professor, and never felt alone. No one had _ever_ treated him the way that Gast did, like any normal person… Sephiroth had trusted the scientist to _be_ there for him, but now…

"…how could he have died?" the boy asked quietly, not bothering to lift his head, speaking more to himself than Hojo.

Sephiroth wasn't a foolish child; one of the first things he was taught was that dying was a natural part of the life cycle - everyone returned to the Planet eventually, and even he himself would one day. But he never realized that there would be an impact which death brought upon others, affecting a person on a deeper level like that. He wanted to cry, or to scream, or _something_…

But to do so would mean showing weakness, and Gast taught him to always try and be strong, and brave as he was during those hated sessions with Mako. Yet this… hurt impossibly more. Mako caused a superficial pain which eventually faded, but Gast's death was surely going to haunt him forever.

Hojo let his dark eyes fall upon Sephiroth, the boy's hands balled into tight fists against his lap, processing the information. He withheld consolation; Sephiroth hated him for all the 'mean' things he did, he was well aware, so what would it have mattered? Gast was gone… of course, not permanently from this plane, but as far as Sephiroth was concerned, the boy was never going to see him again, and there was nothing Hojo could have said to remedy that.

Besides, the boy clearly looked up to Gast far more than he ever would Hojo, therefore Sephiroth would never accept him if he attempted to step in and become a replacement, or try and act as a real father. It was useless. Sephiroth would always place total blame on the scientist, making him out to be the sole bad guy, even if Gast had an equal part in the Jenova Project.

And it would happen… even though, _now_, Hojo was the only one with an active part in his son's life. Lucrecia didn't deserve to be called the boy's mother, running away as she did, so Hojo simply told the boy that Jenova was. It was easier than any other explanation he could have made.

As for Gast… not only had he turned his back on the Project, but he turned his back on Sephiroth as well, all for the Ancient - a grown woman who could have taken care of herself and survived on her own. In Hojo's mind, there truly was no good reason for Gast himself to escape ShinRa…

If Hojo were a lesser man desperate for his son's approval, he would have told Sephiroth the truth about Gast to crush that worship the boy had for him, but he wasn't. And Hojo would still have to do the daily visits, the Mako, constantly check up on the progress of the Jenova cells in the child's body, and so much testing… what good would trying to improve their personal situation do?

Of course, Hojo _was_ bitter… Sephiroth, even that young, looked down on him, and he knew that was never going to change simply because he wasn't _Gast_, the boy's apparent hero. But at least he was _there_… and had Sephiroth wanted or needed his help somewhere down the line, then Hojo would _still_ be there. He would sacrifice the world for his son, if it came down to it, and that would have to suffice.

With vitals charted, reflexes tested to be impeccable as expected, Hojo backed away from the table and cleared his throat. "We're all finished in here," he announced, "time for your treatments. Gather your things and meet me across the hall so we may get this under way."

Sephiroth didn't speak a word as the scientist left him in the room, alone, head lowered. Inside, he felt… numb. The news left him dumbstruck, barely even aware of the happenings during the remainder of the exam, his body reacting of its own accord. In fact, he was out of it until he heard the door click shut and Hojo bring to life the machine which Sephiroth would soon be strapped to.

Dazedly, Sephiroth slid down from the table, toes curling inward as his bare feet came into contact with the cold floor. Apathetic about Hojo's wait, Sephiroth put his clothes back on slowly, eyes fixed on the linoleum the entire time. His movements were done more on impulse than conscious thought, mind dwelling even still…

Gast had _promised_ Sephiroth that he would always be there, and he had trusted that promise. And… the man betrayed him. Gast _abandoned_ him by dying… so how could he trust anyone again, or allow himself to depend on another if everyone would eventually leave him in that same way? That loneliness hurt, and Sephiroth didn't _want_ to feel that isolation. He always felt better with Professor Gast around, but now…

As he made his way over to the Mako lab, Sephiroth couldn't help but wonder if that same crushed feeling was what the future would forever hold, when he lost someone he cared for. And if that was the case, then… what was the point in allowing anyone to become close to him at all?

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A/N: ::coughs as Sephiroth glares at her for turning him into AngstyRoth yet **again**:: . Sorry.  
**Sephiroth (with one eye twitching):** You truly want me to kill you, don't you?  
…… ::coughs::  
Sephiroth scowls  
I thought it could be a decent explanation as to why you're said to be so cold… .;;  
**Sephiroth (glowering at me):** I hate you.  
::sighs:: I know, I know, that's no big secret…  
**Sephiroth:** No, I **really** hate you.  
Again… no big secret.  
**Sephiroth (evilly):** Despise… loathe… wish death upon… want to destroy… ::vein pops in forehead as he ticks the list off on his fingers:: …torture, maim, kill, decapitate, string up to dry, in that precise order—  
Zack and Cloud pop in out of nowhere to steer a still-quite AngryRoth away before he can cause me any serious damage  
…bastard. -.-

Er… I hope that wasn't like… confusing. Blah, POV. And I hope it made sense. And I'm not making Hojo out to be the good guy here! Just not making him out to be the **ultimate** bad guy. They all had an equal share of the blame for making Sephiroth so messed up, dangit.


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